Weather Channel
by Puuda Surf
Summary: AU When tragedy befalls Tino, a Finnish writer, he moves to a quiet snowy village in the north of Sweden, where upon his arrival, captures the attention of the reclusive, stoic, giant living next door. SuFin, BerwaldxTino.
1. Prologue: Men of Snow

**Summary:**** AU When tragedy befalls Tino, a Finnish writer, he moves to a quiet village in the north of Sweden, where upon his arrival, captures the attention of the reclusive, stoic, giant living next door. SuFin, BerwaldxTino. Lightly based off of the back summary of **_**Astrid and Veronika.**_

**Discalimer:**_ Hetalia and its characters will never be mine, and thank God for that because otherwise bad things would happen. Very bad things.

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**Romancing a Stone:** Prologue

At first, he wasn't sure what to expect of the place. He had anticipated an old, rustic log cabin of sorts, but he hadn't expected it to be in practically the middle of nowhere. After six long months, Tino grudgingly surrendered to his editor's persistent badgering of finally taking a vacation break. The Dane just couldn't take 'no' for an answer, then again, Jesper never was one to give up until he got what he wanted. It was a part of the Dane's charm he supposed. He probably would have never had his first novel published if it wasn't for Jesper's perseverance. For that Tino was extremely grateful, but he couldn't help but resent that certain trait of the Dane because that's exactly how he got here in the first place.

"I swear to God if he wasn't my friend…" he huffed, smiling slightly at the thought of his editor.

With a sigh Tino got out of the driver's seat and popped the trunk open before he gently closed the door. Tired from the long ferry ride from Vassa to Umeå, then the 3 hour drive further inland, Tino had finally arrived in a tiny, quiet village in the north of Sweden close to the border of the northernmost province of Norrbotten. The village was cute to say the least. It was small but it had many shops.

The cabin Tino had rented out (for God knows _how_ long, stupid Jesper never told him) wasn't very far from town, perhaps 5 kilometers or so. He wouldn't mind walking to town; he had grown accustomed to walking around a lot while living in Helsinki.

The cabin was beautiful and quaint, with a spacious driveway, which was a good thing, since that meant less work for him. Shoveling snow was a pain in the ass and was one of the few things Tino didn't miss from his rural childhood. Perhaps the only problem was the fact that except for the house across the narrow, unpaved road, it was completely isolated. There were no other houses in sight, and the surrounding white landscape only served to intensify the feeling of seclusion. It was a little unsettling but at the same time it was rather nice.

Carefully, Tino picked up a small box of some of his belongings and with his other arm, grabbed two thick woolen blankets. With ease, Tino navigated through the knee-high snow to the cabin's front door, pinning the box and the blankets against the wall with his hip while he opened the door and carried in his belongings to the bedroom upstairs. He had plenty of time to check out the house but for right now, he simply wanted to move his stuff from the car into the house before it became pitch dark outside. The sun was already on the verge of setting. Taking a moment to look around, Tino noticed how lovely dusk was. The snow was practically glowing with hues of yellow and purple, and some blue in between here and there. It had been far too long since he's seen the sunset in the snow.

After two more trips from his car and back, Tino locked up the car and proceeded to head inside. The movers would be coming all this week with his things so he only bothered to bring the essentials with him. Before he could head inside however, a flicker of light caught his attention and he turned to the source of the light only to see it vanish. The only thing he saw was the house across the street, but oddly enough, there were no lights on in the house at all. It appeared nobody was home, but then again, if no one was home why was there smoke spilling over from the chimney?

"That's strange…" He murmured.

Looking more closely, Tino could see that the house was similar to his own. Just like his, it was an old log cabin, although somewhat larger, and it was surrounded by firs and pine trees. All the windows had either the curtains drawn or blinds closed, and in the front yard was a tree stump with an axe wedged into it's interior. The fact that his new neighbor had an axe made Tino a bit uncomfortable. Just a wee bit really. There was no way that his mysterious neighbor that he's still never met yet was some mentally disturbed psychopath with an axe and totally normal passion for chopping people's heads off…right?

"Crap," Tino cursed. Even in his own _thoughts_ he rambled. It was a bad habit of his really.

Finally, Tino turned around and entered his new house and shut the door. He never noticed that the whole time he was checking out the house across the street, a pair of pale blue eyes stared right back at him.

Determined to get some sleep, Tino headed back upstairs to his bedroom and unfolded the futon lying against the wall. The room was empty except for a dusty cherry-wood dresser and an old loveseat sitting in the corner. There were marks on the floor that indicated that once upon a time a bed resided in this room. Oh well, his bed would be here within two or three days probably. For a moment, Tino entertained the idea of taking the blankets, pillows, and the futon, and making a fort out of them in the corner. So, that's exactly what he did. After fumbling around for a bit and some serious (oh so very serious) brainstorming, Tino finally made his little fortress out of the futon and the pillows, using one of the blankets to drape over the dresser and an old disassembled bedpost lying alongside the love seat.

Carefully crawling inside his little makeshift pillow wonderland, because dammit it sure was comfy, he settled beneath his remaining blanket, and within minutes fell into a deep sleep, surrounded by pillows and blankets like a cozy cocoon. The last thing he thought of before he succumbed to sleep was the dense smell of pine from the cabin and image of a smoking chimney.

It was the first time in months that he got a good night's sleep.

* * *

The next morning Tino woke up to the sound of a dull, repetitive, _thudding_ noise. Cracking open one eye, the Finn saw that it was only 6:08 A.M.

'_Fuck it's early.'_

With a drowsy groan, the blond rolled over and dragged himself out of his cozy little fort and rubbed his eyes of sleep while he walked over to the window intent on finding out the cause of the noise. Squinting his eyes a little to adjust to the dim lighting, Tino located what, or rather who, was causing all the racket. Standing there in the middle of the snow, with an axe in hand was a spectacled man chopping wood on the tree stump across the street. Looking closer, Tino could see the man was young, no more than a few years older than himself, and he was a freaking giant! Sure he was a little shorter than most guys but this guy had to be at least over six feet tall! The man had short pale blond hair with only the edges poking out beneath a black beanie pulled snugly over his head. He wore a dark blue coat and a pair of worn jeans tucked into tall, brown snow boots, and had a white scarf wrapped around his neck and the lower half of his face to ward off the frigid morning air.

So this was his mysterious neighbor.

'_Well that was anticlimactic'_ thought Tino with a slight pout. Although he had to admit 'anticlimactic' was better than 'holyshit!crazyassaxemurderer!' Giggling at the mere absurdity of his thoughts, Tino stood there by the window observing the giant as he chopped through stack after stack of wood. After a few minutes, Tino turned away from the window and lay back down within his fort to go back to sleep. It was still pretty early after all. Closing his eyes, he focused on the rhythmic thud of the axe; the sound was mesmerizing and within a few minutes Tino was lulled back to sleep.

* * *

At exactly nine o'clock the alarm went off signaling the official start of the Finn's morning. Struggling to get out from beneath the covers, Tino stumbled his way out of the fort, knocking over the bedpost in the process causing the whole fort to collapse and cave in on itself.

With a wistful sigh, Tino looked down at his demolished fortress of pillows, and blankets. Quickly giving a mock salute, he pivoted on his heel and proceeded into the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom to take a nice, hot shower. Tino was the type of guy that took his showers in the morning in order to wake up properly, and if he didn't, well then he'd be yawning and falling asleep all day.

After he dried himself off, Tino changed into a white long-sleeve, and shimmied his way into a pair of black snow pants, taking care to tuck them in properly into a pair of his own brown snow boots. With a quick check of himself in the mirror, he grabbed his trademark white beret and placed it on top of his head. With a nod to himself, Tino descended the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Running back upstairs to acquire the small bag of groceries he bought on his way here, the Finn returned to the kitchen and set some water to boil for tea while he made himself a bowl of instant oatmeal. Not the most ideal breakfast, but it would do until his trip into town tomorrow morning. When the water had boiled, Tino pulled the kettle off the stove and poured some water into a mug and made himself a nice, steaming cup of chamomile tea. As he slowly sipped at his tea, he relished in its warmth and noticed how cold the house was. He could see his own breath come out in white puffs. He made a note to buy some firewood later so he could start up the fireplace.

He still had a while before the movers arrived with his stuff so he decided to take a look around before they came. Walking around the house, Tino took a moment to look around and noticed how empty the house truly was. It seemed as if no one had lived here in ages. Well, most likely that was the case. As he walked into what seemed to once be a bedroom, Tino observed how all the furniture had a thick film of dust coating it.

Out of the corner of his eye Tino caught the glare of a picture frame sitting on the edge of a wooden bookshelf. Padding over to cross the room, Tino gently picked up the picture frame, wiping the dust off with the pad of his thumb. Peering up from the photograph was a young boy with shocking blue eyes that seemed to stare right into the camera. The boy was smiling and had rosy cheeks. Standing beside the young boy were what Tino assumed to be his parents. Each of them held one of the boys hands and beside them was a small, scruffy white dog with it's tongue hanging outside of it mouth as it jumped at the boy's legs. The boy's mother was beautiful and tall with long blond locks of hair that tumbled to her waist. She had eyes nearly identical to her son. Looking upon her smiling face reminded Tino of his own mother. The thought made his chest feel tight and uncomfortable. Sighing through his nose as he composed himself, he glanced back at the photograph and looked at the brunette to the boy's right. The man was muscular and tall as well. His face was somewhat frightening with it's it rigid angles and his bottle green gaze, but he was very handsome nonetheless.

The picture was filled with warmth, and made Tino feel somewhat nostalgic. This must have been the family that lived here before him. Perhaps they had left behind the photo by mistake? It seemed odd though.

As he kept exploring the cabin Tino came across another photograph of the young boy along with four other little boys. One looked familiar with wild blonde hair, missing teeth, and warm cobalt eyes. The boy was laughing and had his arms slung over the shoulders of the young boy and a shorter blond with a somewhat neutral borderline annoyed expression, and deadened navy blue eyes. This boy held onto the shoulders of a younger platinum blond with violet eyes similar to his own. The platinum blond boy held onto a stuffed puffin toy and looked all riled up. The last child in the photograph made Tino pause. The child was half-hidden behind the first boy's back. The boy had fair blonde hair and was shorter than most of the kids. His face was round with a layer of baby fat in his cheeks and had russet colored eyes. On his head was a white beret that was a bit too large for him and drooped off the side of his head.

If it weren't for the difference in eye color, Tino would have that he was looking at a picture of himself when he was younger.

The sudden noise of an engine and tires skidding to a stop outside his house brought Tino out of his thoughts as he raced over to the window to see who it was.

A large white moving truck had parked into his driveway and two men stepped out of the truck. One was a blond while the other was a brunette. Moving away from the window, Tino rushed over to the front door and pulled it open just as one of the men was about to knock on it.

"Hello there! I'm guessing you two are the ones that Eduard was talking about?"

With a quick flip of his hair the blond replied, "Yeah, that's like, us. You're like Tino Väinämoy-moy…uh Väinä-" "Väinämöinen? Yeah, that's me." The Finn cut in, and looked over at the brunette who had stayed silent until now.

"Nice to me-" the brunette was cut off as the blond reached over and roughly shook Tino's hand. "So I'm like Feliks, and this total cutie right here is Liet."

A little surprised by the blonde's enthusiastic handshake, Tino smiled sympathetically towards the now blushing brunette. With a sigh the brunette held his hand out towards Tino, "Actually my _real_ name is Toris. Nice to meet you."

With a firm shake the trio headed back over to the truck and started pulling out boxes, moving in and out of the house. Within 20 minutes the truck had been emptied of its cargo and Tino invited the two inside for a bit.

"Would you guys like tea or coffee? Sorry, but I don't have much to offer until I go into town tomorrow…."

"A cup of coffee would be wonderful," replied Toris with a small smile.

Tino prepared the coffee, and sat back down at the table to join the others.

"So what like brings you like all the way out here, in the middle of frigging nowhere?" drawled Feliks while he leaned his chin into his hand.

There was a slight pause as Tino's smile faltered for a moment.

"Feliks! You shouldn't ask about things that aren't your business!" chided the Lithuanian.

Smiling once again Tino raised his hand to calm down the brunette. "No! No! It's quite alright! Really!" he proclaimed, "The reason why I came here was because my editor thought I needed a vacation of sorts. It's silly really…"

* * *

While the strange duo chatted with one another, Tino kept catching himself daydreaming, and often kept gazing at the house across the street.

The noise of fingers snapping in front of his face caught his attention as he looked over at Feliks.

"Helloooooo…Anyone like home?" Feliks called.

"O-oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to be so rude!" the Finn chuckled nervously and rubbed at the back of his head.

Instead of the chiding reply he had been anticipating, all Tino received was a concerned look from Toris who asked if was okay. Looking back at Feliks, Tino followed his line of vision over to the house across the street. The Pole had an anxious look on his face and finally turned back to the confused Finn.

"So, you're like neighbors with that guy now, huh?"

He must have seen Tino's puzzled expression because he gave an exasperated sigh and pointed over to the house before continuing.

"You're the neighbor of like the town hermit!" he cried.

"Feliks!"

The Polish man ignored the Lithuanian in his excitement. "Like he's this huge bear of man that's like a total loner and he's hella scary, and he never speaks to people, and he's always glaring at something! I hear bad things about him, Tino dear, you've gotta be careful, he might like kidnap you and like chop you up with his axe."

"Feliks! You've never even met the man! Don't speak badly about Berwald, you're scaring poor Tino," said Toris.

"Oh please Liet. You know it's like true."

To this, the Lithuanian merely spluttered angrily

"Berwald?" Tino asked.

Glancing back towards the Finn, Toris smiled gently, "Yeah, that's his name. Berwald Oxenstierna. He's the man that runs the lumber yard and hardware store in town, he's a bit strange but he's kind." He paused a moment to glare over at his blond companion, "Don't listen to Feliks. Nobody really knows the guy, so people just assume all sorts of crazy things about him. Berwald keeps to himself and always has for as long as I've known him."

Learning about his new neighbor just made Tino feel more uneasy and anxious. Feliks' horror stories about the Swedish giant only served to make Tino even more preoccupied.

Standing up, and nodding over towards Feliks, Toris pulled his coat on and walked towards the front of the house. Following, Tino said his goodbyes to the two as they stepped outside towards the truck.

Before getting into the truck, Toris turned back towards Tino and lay a hand gently on his shoulder. He looked somewhat sad as looked the Finn in the eye, and with a voice barely above a whisper, said, "You know people are often afraid of what they don't know or what they don't understand. Please keep that in mind."

Silently, Tino nodded and the brunette smiled and waved goodbye as he climbed into the truck. He stood there for a long time just staring after the white truck and watching as it eventually blended in with the white landscape. He stood there till he couldn't hear the roar of the truck's engine. With one last glance towards the cabin across the street, Tino retreated back into his abode, with Toris' words replaying over and over in his head.

* * *

That night Tino dreamt of a land covered in ice and snow and a cozy little cabin hidden deep within a snowy forest. The cabin was full of warmth and the sound of children's laughter was abundant within the cabin walls. Feelings of love, security, and happiness surrounded him in a flurry of emotions as he laughed and laughed and laughed. Arms wrapped around him, and he basked in their warmth and he felt soft kisses pressed to his cheeks as he was rocked to sleep. The crackle of a fire soothed him and a kind, drowned-out voice washed over him as his eyelids slid shut. He opened his eyes once again but this time, there were no warm arms encompassing him, and no fire to heat him up. The log cabin was gone, and in its place before him was a cave. The cave was dark, and large. He could feel the wind at his back and shivered. Surely if he ventured father in the cave it would be warmer right?

The boy wandered deeper into the dark, pleased to see he was right.

He stopped dead cold when he saw a huge black mass shift in front of him. The mass let out a low, growl and came closer to him. Frozen stiff with fear, he could only watch as the mass got closer and closer until they were practically nose-to-nose. He vaguely registered the huge "mass" was actually a large brown bear. His breath hitched in his throat as the bear sniffed his face, before it finally looked at him straight in the eyes. Confusion and amazement flashed through his mind, replacing the panic and terror he had felt prior.

The bear had blue eyes.

It had frightening frosty blue eyes, and from their proximity, he could see a dash of green in them as well.

They were beautiful.

The bear turned from him and stalked over to the wall where it lay back down. Still standing in the same spot, the bear looked over at him. Somehow, despite all logic telling him to run, he walked over to the bear and lay down beside it without hesitation. The bear curled up around him, and the warmth that he felt back in the cabin returned to him. Through the bear' thick fur he could hear its heartbeat; loud, strong, and constant.

* * *

After he heard the faint sound of the door shutting in the distance, he cautiously pulled backed the curtains and peered over at the house across the street just in time to see the upstairs light flicker on. The morning had been filled with all sorts of noises. The sounds of laughter, and doors opening and closing had disturbed his quiet. He had gotten his first glimpse of the stranger that was moving into the house next door. The young man was blond and pretty short, but what caught his attention was the fact that wore a _white beret_. It was rather strange. No one else but him had lived on this street for such a long time, and now that this stranger had come, it was like the Swede's world of silence and isolation had been invaded by small sounds of life.

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**Okay so I know Berwald's official height is somewhere around 182 cm and that's basically like 5"10 which really isn't that tall at all. At least not in my book, maybe it's because I've been surrounded by men who are all over 6 ft tall…well that's why I altered his height a little. This chapter is very boring but (hopefully) next chapter will be more interesting. **

**Reviews would be lovely, and would definitely help me write faster. Constructive criticism is lovely as well so don't be shy about that please ****. **

**Flames will just be used to kill the fleas on my cat. (no I'm not going to light the cat of fire)**


	2. Hide and Seek

**So each chapter will be named after a particular song. Last chapter was "Men of Snow" by Ingrid Michaelson. This chapter is "Hide and Seek" by Imogen Heap. YOUTUBE THEM. Also, just in advance, no the chapters are not based on the songs. ****Berwald's POV makes me wanna cry and bash my head into the wall. His accent isn't helping either. Honestly, Swedish accents don't sound anything like that. :T I apologize in advance if you don't understand what he's saying. Warning, Norway is a bit OOC this chapter, but he kind of had to be...**

**Edit: So sometimes I'm a grammar Nazi, but Microsoft's spelling and grammar check does little for me. If you see any mistakes with my grammar or spelling (I have a bad comma problem D: ) PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE let me know! I WILL ADORE YOU FOREVER IF YOU DO. I need some sort of Beta or something because as I hard as I try, I find it impossible to completely proofread something I've written.**

**Note: Hinrik is Iceland, Aleksander is Norway, and Jesper is Denmark. It'd be weird to call them by their country names. That's like calling myself America or something...**

**Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters are not my property and they never shall be.

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**CHAPTER 1: Hide and Seek**

The same as yesterday, Tino awoke to the thudding beat of his neighbor's axe. Rolling over on his side towards his nightstand, he saw that yet again it was 6:08 A.M. The realization was a little peculiar but with his mind still half-asleep he couldn't quite comprehend the oddities of such a methodical routine. Deciding to ignore the noise for now, Tino tried to go to sleep again, but after a few minutes of trying, his efforts proved to be fruitless and he turned over onto his back and stared at the wooden ceiling, noting the grooves of the wooden beams that ran across its span. In the back of his head he barely registered the fact that the axe had stopped chopping. His mind was blank and he tried to recall the events of his dream. There wasn't much he could remember but he managed to salvage some bits and pieces. He could remember the toasty cabin, the sensation of rocking, as if he was on a gently swaying rowboat floating on the sea, and then there was the obscured image of two incredibly blue eyes. He couldn't recall a face, only those two pale blue eyes. The sound of the axe resuming it's wood-chopping jolted Tino from his musings and with a sudden burst of energy the blonde attempted to get out of bed (futon really), keyword being _attempted_. Sometime during the night the blankets must have wrapped around his waist, preventing his legs from taking even one step before he fell nearly flat on his face.

"Shit!"

The axe seemed to pause for a split second, but then it continued on as if nothing had happened. Tino never noticed.

After spewing a few curses in his native tongue, the Finn finally managed to unravel himself from the blankets and got up and walked over to the window. From his angle, he could see the man's back as he steadily sliced through a pile of wood. '_He_ _must have extraordinary upper body strength'_ thought Tino as he glanced back at the clock. The time was 6:35 A.M. It had nearly been half an hour since his neighbor began his laborious task.

Suddenly, it was very quiet. Tino looked back out the window and saw the way the man's posture had rapidly gone rigid as he turned around slowly. Realization dawned on the Finn as he quickly closed the curtain and immediately ducked down beneath the windowsill. '_Oh God. Please don't tell me he saw me…I'm such a creep!'_

Tino's heart was beating fiercely and the palms of his hands became sweaty. For some reason, the thought of being caught gazing at his neighbor terrified Tino almost as much as it excited him. After a minute or two, he finally managed to control his heartbeat and as he stood back up, he wiped his hands on his sweatpants and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.

As Tino washed his hair, he could feel a slight bump behind his ear. The moment his fingers brushed against it, his ears began to ring a little. Squeezing his eyes shut, Tino tried to ignore it but the ringing noise in his head was persistent. He sat down against the shower wall and lowered his head against his knees, covering his ears with his hands as the water poured down on his head. Focusing on each individual drop of water, the blonde willed the noise to go away. After a few minutes, the noise had been reduced to low humming. It was bearable at least. Rinsing off he stepped out of the shower, dried himself off and changed into an outfit similar to the one he wore the previous day.

Before he headed out into the hall, Tino walked into his bedroom where a small box lay next to the futon. Fishing around for a while, the Finn finally found what he was looking for. A small white cross that hung from a golden chain. Carefully, he undid the chain's delicate clasp and fastened it around his neck. Fingering the cross, he smiled down at it. The cross had been a gift from his Danish friend. Not long after they became friends, the Dane had given him the cross for no real reason. Still, the Finn cherished it.

Bounding down into the kitchen, Tino prepared himself a cup of coffee, and made sure to make extra to take with him in his trip into town. Today was the day when he would get to check out the town and finally stock up on groceries and other things. After finishing up his cup, he grabbed his car keys off the counter and headed into the foyer, where he pulled on his trusty snow boots. Walking over to the coat rack, Tino grabbed his (official, thank you very much) ice hockey jacket, the one that proudly stated "_Suomi"_ in bold royal blue letters and pulled it over his black long sleeve. Humming a tuneless song to himself, he headed out the door and entered his white SUV. He pulled out of the driveway and took off down the road towards town.

The humming in his head never did stop.

* * *

The slight change in temperature was all it took to awake the sleeping giant, and slowly he opened his eyes, rubbing them clear of any sleep that might have accumulated there during the night. With a silent yawn the Swede, better known as Berwald, rose from his bed and staggered over to the oak wood dresser located across the room. Suppressing yet another yawn, he quickly pulled on a pair of black snow pants and a blue sweater. He grabbed a pair of wool socks and sauntered down the stairs into the living room where he finished dressing himself by lacing up his boots and wrapping a random scarf around his face.

This time, Berwald couldn't quite hold back the urge to yawn and groggily he grabbed his red axe, and went outside into the cool morning air. Dawn had always been his favorite time of day, despite the fact that most of the time, it remained dark outside. The frosty air had a brisk quality to it that left his throat dry and his lips chapped, but to be honest, he loved the cold. He never liked the heat. One trip to Malmo in his childhood during a heat wave had quickly persuaded Berwald into never leaving the wintry paradise he called home.

He was out a little earlier than usual, which was strange since he'd always made sure to come outside at the same time every morning, and in a similar fashion, made sure to always, _always_ start his work at precisely 6:08 A.M. He still had three minutes till he had to start. With a sigh the tall man looked up at the house across the street and peered up into the upstairs bedroom window. It was strange to think someone was once again occupying the cabin. What was even more unusual was the short blonde that had only recently taken up residence in said cabin. The day before he had watched the blonde and the two others, Toris and the chatty blonde from the beauty shop, while they shuffled in and out of the house with arms full of boxes. From the amount of furniture and boxes moved into the house it was safe to say the stranger would be here for a while. While the fact that his precious silence may be disturbed, he was a little anxious. Berwald had never been good with strangers; somehow he always seemed to scare them off before he could even manage a simple "hello." While the Swede observed the three, he couldn't help but notice the ease with which the blond had navigated through the snow. He practically seemed to glide right through it. Usually, anyone who rented out that cabin were families from the south looking for a weeklong getaway. It seemed as though this blonde was no stranger to the snowy landscape.

Breaking away from his thoughts, Berwald set himself to work and made a neat pile next to the stump, and began chopping the bits of wood in a systematic order. Chopping wood was an art; you just don't pick up an axe and just start hacking away with it. Berwald knew this, and had perfected the art a long time ago in his boyhood. Gradually, he began to lose himself in his task when out of the blue; he heard a loud shout that came from behind him. From the cabin. Shaking his head, Berwald resumed his wood-murdering but after a little while, he began to have the feeling that he was being watched. He ignored it as best as he could but the feeling kept churning in his stomach and grew in an uncomfortable manner. No longer able to ignore the feeling, the giant stopped his chopping and felt himself tense up as he peered over his shoulder behind him, looking up towards the cabin.

Perhaps it was a mere trick of his eyes but he could have _sworn _he saw something move in the bedroom window. Letting his gaze linger a bit longer, the Swede finally looked away and decided to head inside. He needed to eat breakfast before he stopped over by his work today. All he needed to do was drop off the timber from today and yesterday morning.

Settling into the couch, Berwald sipped at his coffee and nibbled on a slice of bread with some cheese on it. Not very substantial, but he didn't mind, the coffee was good enough for him. Sitting there, he pondered over the strange noise he heard.

The distinct sound of a door slamming nearly caused Berwald to spill his coffee. He pulled back the curtain just in time to see his blonde neighbor getting into his car, before he backed out of the driveway, and sped down the road.

* * *

Okay, so maybe speeding down the road at 80 kph (50-ish mph) wasn't the _brightest_ idea but Tino was what he called an "excellent" driver. After nearly crashing into a snow bank to his right and running through a stop sign, the Finn finally slowed down, and within minutes, had arrived into the outskirts of the downtown.

Slowly, Tino drove down the street peering left and right at the buildings, trying to decipher what was what. So far he had managed to identify a sort of beauty shop or salon, an outdoors shop of some sort, an ice cream parlor (yum), an auto shop, a bank, a bakery, and a tavern. When a large building came into view, Tino knew this was his destination. He pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store and parked his car by the entrance. Glancing at his wristwatch, he noticed for what seemed like the first time that it was still pretty early. It was only around 8 AM.

Grabbing his wallet from the glove compartment, Tino went inside past the market doors and proceeded to gather all the necessary items that he needed to stock up on. He grabbed the basics like milk, bread, eggs, coffee, and juice. The Finn made sure to grab plenty of fish fillets, beef, and an assortment of vegetables. He grabbed two bottles of vodka. Tino scrunched his nose up a little when he noticed they were a Russian brand, but he could deal with it.

After getting everything he wanted the blonde made his way to the store's register where a familiar brunette stood helping a pretty girl with long fair hair much like his own. She was a very beautiful girl, but something about the way she seemed to glare at the poor Lithuanian seem to put Tino a little on edge. Meanwhile, Toris seemed to be so excited, talking to the irritated blonde, that he didn't even notice Tino.

"My brother told me to tell you hello," said the pale beauty.

The Finn was a little taken back by how low the girl's voice was. It was a bit raspy and not at all what he had been expecting it to be.

"Oh really? How nice," said the brunette offhandedly, "How are you doing Natalya? Do you still want to go on that da-" Natalya's hand shot out and grabbed Toris' hand in the blink of an eye. The look on her face was neutral but the aura around her was positively livid. Tino took a step back and from his spot 5 feet away, even he could hear the noise of what sounded like _several_ little cracks, as the Belarusian's death-grip seemed to tighten.

'_Oh my God! Did she just break his fingers?' _Tino thought incredulously.

With one last glare, Natalya let go of the Lithuanian's abused hand and pivoted on her heel, gracefully walking out the door. If one looked really heard, they would've seen the light dusting of pink spreading across the Belarusian's cheeks.

"Aha! She's so cute…"

Horrified by what he had just witnessed, Tino looked over at Toris and immediately walked up to him and grabbed his wrist, inspecting his fingers. The grotesque manner in which the fingers had been bent made the blonde's stomach flip backwards like an Olympic gymnist.

"Jesus Christ Toris! Are you okay!" cried the Finn.

Noticing Tino for the first time, Toris jumped a little.

"Oh hey there Tino! I didn't see you. Ah, I'm sorry about that, it's just that Natalya is so cute! Don't you think so?"

Speechless, Tino merely raised the Lithuanian's wrist up to eye level and deadpanned, "Toris, She just _broke_ your fingers."

"Huh?" Confused, the cashier just gazed at his mutilated extremities and gave a simple "oh."

"Funny…when did that happen?"

Frustrated, the blonde gently let go of Toris' wrist and started piling up his basket onto the conveyor belt.

"You should go to the doctor immediately. Christ, you're probably going to need a finger splint for all five fingers!"

"Oh no, don't worry to much about it, it's only my left hand, no big deal. Raivis can just handle the goods for today I suppose," said Toris, as if it was an everyday occurrence.

For all Tino knew, it probably was.

After paying for his goods, and arguing with Toris for a good ten minutes, the Finn managed to convince the stubborn Lithuanian into going to the nearest clinic as soon as possible. He even wrapped up the brunette's fingers before he said goodbye and left the store.

With groceries out of the way, Tino decided to stroll down the street and took note of how small the downtown was. From his angle he could some homes clustered together on the hills behind the town and he realized the town couldn't possibly have more than six hundred people. This place was much different from the city, and Tino appreciated that. Jesper had done one hell of a job picking a location after all he supposed.

Looking up, Tino saw a coffee shop across the street and decided to stop by and grab something to eat. He never really had breakfast and at this point, he was dying for something to eat. Coffee was a good pick-me-up but it made a poor replacement for actual breakfast food in his opinion.

The little coffee shop looked inviting and one whiff of the air told the Finn that it also smelled delicious. As he stepped through the shops' door, Tino was blasted with aromas of cinnamon, coffee, and the distinct smell of batter. The mixture made him sigh in delight and with a bounce in his step, he walked up to the counter where he stood looking up at the menu.

While Tino considered his options, a young man with pale blond locks of hair walked out of the backroom. The man looked up to greet the customer, when his navy blue eyes widened in surprise. Shocked, the man dropped the box of paper cups that he was carrying and just gaped at the stranger. At first, Tino didn't notice him until a thunderous clattering noise pierced through his coffee-laden reverie. Swiftly, he turned towards the source of the racket and saw the dumbfounded Norwegian with his arms still suspended, as if he was still caring the box. Tino was at a loss as the blue-eyed blond seemed to stare at him. '_No. That's not right…'_ The man might've been looking straight at the Finn but it seemed as though his gaze went right through him. The man's eyes were glossed over and introverted as if he was recalling something.

Clearing his throat, Tino bent down to pick up the fallen box and gently said, "Excuse me sir, I believe you've dropped this."

As if waking from some sort of trance, the Norwegian blinked and immediately his face regained its natural expression. Which would be nothing but neutral really. Spotting the box within Tino's hands, the blond reached over and took the box from the Finn's hands, apologizing for his behavior.

With a nervous chuckle, Tino rubbed the back of his head, "Sorry if I scared you. I didn't mean to." After a few seconds of silence, the Finn was afraid that the blonde might have returned to his previous state but a soft sigh quickly dispelled that notion as the Norwegian put the box down on top of the counter and gave a slight shake of his head. For the first time, Tino noticed a white cross hair clip fastened to the side of the blonde's head. It looked very similar to his cross.

Something about the hair clip was very familiar, and it kept nagging at Tino's thoughts. Walking behind the register, the blonde finally spoke up. "…Sorry about before. You just…surprised me I suppose." With a light smile, Tino just shook his head, "No problem. You just worried me a little. Oh how rude of me! My name is Tino Väinämoïnen. I'm new to town you see?" Holding out his hand, the Norwegian firmly shook Tino's and introduced himself. "A pleasure. I'm Aleksander." After scrutinizing Tino (once again), Aleksander randomly said, "I could tell." The statement caught the Finn off guard.

"E-excuse me?" he stuttered.

"…I meant I could tell that you weren't from around here," he further elaborated, "…your Swedish is good, but you're from Finland, aren't you?"

For a moment Tino felt self-conscious of his linguistic skills. "How'd you know? Is my accent really that bad?" he cried out.

A small smirk appeared on the Norwegian's face as he just pointed to the other's chest. "Well that…and your jacket."

Confused, Tino looked down at his jacket and remembered the fact that it did say _"Suomi"_ quite clearly. Embarrassed by his obliviousness, Tino laughed to himself, "Oh r-right. I forgot about that, haha…"

An awkward silence pervaded the café before the blue-eyed blonde asked the flustered Finn what he would like to order.

In the end, Tino simply settled for a cappuccino and waited for his order by the counter.

The humming began to get louder again. It started as a minor little buzzing in the background but soon it began to climb in volume. Tino knew the signs. Quickly, Tino decided to make conversation with the Norwegian in order to distract himself from the noise. Before he could utter a single word however, a second person emerged from the backroom. This time, a young (well younger than him anyways) man with a head of platinum blond hair and mauve eyes walked up to the counter before he spotted the Finn staring at him.

The platinum blonde seemed shocked before he tentatively said, "…Isak?" In an instant, Aleksander threw a glare at the man before he gently gripped his shoulder and looked him in the eye. Watching from the other side of the counter, Tino thought the two were practically holding a conversation with just their eyes.

As though understanding the Norwegian, the blond nodded his head and went over to the machine. Cup in hand, Aleksander handed the cappuccino to Tino before looking at him and saying, "Enjoy."

All of a sudden things clicked in place for Tino as he exclaimed, "I know where I've seen you two before!" Instantly, both blondes stiffened, and if Tino weren't so surprised, he would've noticed the way Aleksander's eyes widened or the way the Icelander pressed the wrong button on the cash register, causing the compartment to open.

"What?" asked the Norwegian.

"Yeah. You're the two boys in that photograph I saw back at the cabin!"

More confused then surprised now, Aleksander repeated himself a second time with an oh so eloquent "what?" It was really more of a statement this time than anything else.

'_Way to go Tino. Way to make yourself seem like a major creep for the __**second**__ time today…' _he thought wryly.

Laughing to himself, the Finn elaborated, "Well that sounded odd huh? What I meant was that back in the cabin I rented out, there was this photograph in one of the empty rooms and there were these five boys, and two of them look just like you guys." The humming had evolved into a loud buzzing noise now, and Tino had to listen even harder in order to hear their response.

"A cabin? Where?" said the platinum blonde.

With difficulty, Tino nodded his head, "Oh just an old little cabin about five kilometers out of town. It's on that one road, you know the one with only two houses on it?"

The buzzing was overwhelming now.

Clenching his fists the Norwegian told the Icelander to go fetch something for him in the back. As the blonde looked back over at his customer however, the words that he was about to ask were replaced with new ones. "…Are you alright?" Tino was swaying slightly and his lilac-colored eyes were going in and out of focus.

Snapping his head up in response, the Finn simply nodded, "Hmm? Of course I'm fine. Sorry, but I must be going, have a nice day!" he called out, rushing out the door before the Norwegian could even give back a response.

In a rare display, Aleksander shouted the foreigner's name, but made no move to follow after him. Running a hand through his hair, the blond sighed. He looked down at the counter and noticed that the Finn didn't even grab his cappuccino. He barely looked up when Hinrik, his little brother, opened the door.

"Brother?" he called out.

Surprised that the Icelander had called him "brother," Aleksander looked up and noticed the slight forlorn look on his sibling's face.

"…Yes?"

"That man…he looked just lik-" "Stop," said the blonde.

"But you can't deny it! He loo-" A fierce glare shut the platinum blonde up.

"I know. I know he does. But that's not him," he sighed, "just forget about it."

Frowning, Hinrik just nodded and looked down at the cappuccino on the counter. Suddenly, Aleksander stood up and started heading towards the back door. As he was about to open the door, he looked back to the Icelander and told him, "Watch over the shop for me, I need to make a phone call."

* * *

Blindly running through the street, Tino ran past buildings. It was still dark out, and he stumbled through small mounds of snow. The buzzing had transformed into something wicked. It was as if drums were being beaten inside of his head, and the once tuneless humming had morphed into some kind of rhythm that reminded him of the drums of war, like the ones in those movies. Staggering through the sidewalk, he hardly even noticed when his beret fell off. All he could feel was the beating inside his head and the sensations of the ground rippling before him. It was as if he were on the stormy ocean, and the waves kept whirling around him, sloshing him back and forth mercilessly. At one point the Finn had fallen in the middle of the icy street and remained there. The frost-layered pavement made Tino's cheek numb and eventually sent needle-like sensations throughout his face, alerting the blonde that he should get up. The cold had somewhat managed to calm him down and the drumbeats seemed to go away a little. Pulling himself upright, he retreated back into the parking lot where his car was parked and slowly made his way back to the cabin. He couldn't drive recklessly right now. Not in his condition.

* * *

Exhausted from the sudden episode, Tino exited the car and steadied himself against the car door. Everything came to him in a blur and it was amazing how he even made it back in one piece. The noise became stronger and everything was just a white blur. Spinning around, Tino walked towards the fuzzy mass of oranges, browns, and auburns. He tottered up towards the window when he realized this wasn't his house.

He was standing right in front of his neighbor's window. The window was shut, and the curtains were drawn in a dark blue haze. Mind in a daze, Tino thought it strange how he still hadn't met his neighbor yet. Out of nowhere, the Finn smiled brightly in his delirium and waved towards nobody in particular. Deciding to go back to his own cabin, he spun around and stumbled over to his front door, and finally went inside. The moment the door closed, the drumbeat roared inside his head and what had started out as a simple humming noise that morning in the shower had erupted into a cacophony of thunderous instruments. Tino collapsed in the foyer and clutched at his head as he mumbled incoherent phrases, switching in and out of Swedish, and his mother tongue. The cacophony slowly, but surely, mellowed out and eventually, the discordant instruments harmonized with one another, forming a symphony full of beautiful rhythms. His mouth twitched upwards in a lazy smile and his limbs spread out languidly across the wooden floorboards. It had never been so delightful before, and the music in his head pervaded his senses. Not only could he hear the music, but he also could taste it, smell it, and _feel_ it as wave after melodious wave of music rolled over him.

Then the music stopped.

Tino's blood ran cold when he could hear a _woman_ singing. No. This was new; this had never happened before. Petrified on the floor, Tino listened to the woman's saccharine voice and he hardly even noticed the cool teardrops rolling down his cheeks into his hair. He knew that voice. The Soprano sung to him in hushed tones, her voice rising in power and pitch. Grief tore through Tino's heart and filled it with sorrow. Shocked by the onslaught of sudden emotions, he resigned himself to the woman's soft singing. Slowly, his eyes began to close, but before they closed completely, a figure's face dangled in front of him. A young brunette with mauve eyes just like his bent down and kissed his forehead. Tino felt the cool brush of flesh against his cheeks as the boy wiped them dry. His eyes slid shut and the woman stopped singing. He couldn't open his eyes.

"Hyvää yötä" whispered the boy.

Tino's heart clenched with pain in realization, but then it didn't matter since everything slid out of focus, and suddenly, everything went black.

* * *

After reading for a bit, Berwald had walked into his kitchen to put away the dirty dishes from this morning's breakfast. He washed the dishes by hand and made sure to set them neatly on a towel where they may dry.

Despite being isolated from most of the town, his home was quite lavished with plush sofas, beautifully carved furniture, and an assortment of appliances he had bought in his last trip to Umeå. He however refused to buy a dishwasher. They were too expensive, and took up too much water to run.

Noticing that his glasses were falling down his nose, the Swede turned off the water and wiped his hands dry before pushing them back up with his forefinger. Just as he was about to turn the faucet back on however, a sudden sound from outside caught his attention. The crunching of snow could be heard through the kitchen window, and quietly, the giant peeled back a small section of the azure curtain only to see his neighbor no more than three feet away from him. The Swede almost recoiled in surprise, and was on the verge of shutting the curtain closed when he noticed something off with the young man. The Finn was rocking back and forth slightly as stared right back at him. Something wasn't right though, Berwald could tell. For the first time, he studied the shorter blonde's face and noticed the slightly curved cheeks that were a bit flushed, and the boy's slight button nose that had turned red from the cold. The Finn's face was framed with long, flaxen, side-wept bangs, and they hid most of his ears out of sight. What caught him off guard however were the blonde's eyes. They weren't brown, or blue like most people's were around these parts. They were a lilac color that was so pale they practically glowed in the dim morning darkness. Overall, Berwald had to admit his neighbor's youthful appearance was quite...attractive.

Shaking his head slightly, the tall Swede looked back to the swaying blonde and became aware of the fact that the boy's eyes were going in and out of focus. Slightly disturbed, he almost made a move to go help the dazed blonde before the young man broke out into a huge smile that was so blindingly _adorable_ Berwald could only stare (surprise surprise) back. The Finn waved at the window, let his eyes drift up to nowhere really, and then pivoted on his heel. Berwald watched the blonde stagger into his cabin and let out the breath that he didn't even know he had been holding. Berating himself for being so useless, the Swede noticed the time was around noon (and it was still so dark outside). Gathering his belongings, he took his truck from its spot out back and drove into town.

* * *

The errand only took him about twenty minutes in total. All he had to do was drop off some things and go back home. The giant parked outside of his hardware store and carried the bundles of timber back and forth to the lumberyard behind the building. Finishing his task, the Swede gave a small sigh as he headed to the store's entrance, where his truck was parked. As he walked up to his car, he noticed something lying on a small pile of snow that he hadn't noticed before. Leaning down, he reached out and grabbed a white beret off the snow.

"Wh't 'n th' w'rld?" he muttered.

Berwald knew every face in town, and _no one_ wore a white beret. Well except for _him._ But that was impossible since _he_ wasn't here anymore. Studying the piece of fabric in his hands, Berwald's brow scrunched up in concentration. Then, the pieces all suddenly clicked into place before him. His cute new neighbor had a white beret on the night before. He wasn't wearing it when he had seen him before he left. Concentrating, Berwald recalled the Finn wearing it that morning when he had almost spilled his coffee. Without a doubt, the beret belonged to him.

Nervous all of a sudden, the Swede realized he should give back the beret, but he was reluctant to make any sort of contact with the stranger. He'd rather avoid him if he could. He didn't want to scare off the poor guy like he always did with the others. Sighing sullenly, the giant turned around and decided to head over to Aleksander's for a cup of coffee before he headed home. On his way over however, he caught bits and pieces of someone yelling. Usually he would ignore something so trivial, but he recognized that voice. It wasn't just anyone yelling. It was _Aleksander. _Aleksander, the quiet, blunt, Norwegian that never _ever_ raised his voice.

Berwald strained his ears to listen, "God Dammit! What the hell is wrong with you? You can't just pull shit like this! You can't just use someone like that you pathetic dog!" hissed the Norwegian.

Pausing for a moment the irate blonde suddenly said, "Oh really now? You think that…" The voice trailed off as Berwald turned around.

Deciding to come back later, Berwald walked over to his truck and headed back home early.

* * *

It was past 11 PM when the Swede decided to go outside and put away his tools. Sometime tonight there would be a storm blowing in from the mountains. Trying to find his tools in the morning would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack except with snow.

After he managed to put away his things, Berwald took a moment to look up at the sky and noticed the way most of the stars had disappeared. That meant the clouds were already rolling in. The temperature was extremely low even for this time of the year, but Berwald was used to it. Looking across the street, he noticed that none of the lights were on.

'_He must be in bed by now,' _He mused. A flicker of movement out in the distance behind the house cause the Swede to look over, squinting his eyes in order to focus in on the object. Was it an animal?

Taking a few steps into the street, Berwald's eyes widened when he noticed the object was a person, and not just any person, but his _neighbor_. He was wearing no shoes, and only had a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve on. What the hell was the blonde thinking? It was freezing outside. He didn't notice it at first but he realized the Finn was walking out towards the woods, onto the frozen pond.

The Swede's heart dropped.

Hesitating, he finally called out "Hey!"

The Finn must have not noticed since he didn't stop.

Cupping his hands this time, he drew in a great big breath and bellowed out a great, big, "HEY!" Realizing the blonde couldn't hear him, Berwald dashed inside, grabbed his hatchet and ran back out the door and sprinted across the street, past the other cabin and into the expanse of white.

The Finn was getting closer to the middle of the pond. The ice was thinner out there. Cautiously, the Swede walked across the ice and kept calling out over and over.

"Hey! L'st'n to me! Th's 'sn't f'nny!" the Swede growled out.

Pausing in mid-step, the Finn turned around slowly towards the tall blonde.

Taken aback, Berwald noted the way the Finn's eyes were completely closed, and the way he breath in deeply and slowly.

'_Is he…sleepwalking?' _he wondered.

"Hey, sn'p out 'f 't!" he exclaimed, while he slowly made his way over to the Finn.

The short blonde was almost within reach when a loud cracking noise caught his attention.

"Sh't."

* * *

Back in the café, Hinrik gave an exasperated sigh as he heard his normally poised brother yelling into the phone receiver. The Icelander winced as he heard a loud crash come from the back. He _almost_ felt sorry for the poor Dane on the other end. Almost. The bastard deserved to be yelled at. How could he pull something so stupid?

* * *

Aleksander was angry, no fuck that, he was downright _furious_. How dare that bastard pull something like this? Yanking the phone off the wall, he quickly punched in the numbers he had (reluctantly) learned by heart. He only had to wait for the phone to ring twice before a certain obnoxious Dane picked up.

"Helloooooo? Jesper the Great speaki-"

"Cut the crap, Jesper" he hissed.

"What? Aleks? Aleks buddy! How you've been? We haven't talked in ages! Why don't you ever respond to my calls you sly cactus you?"

Rolling his eyes, the Norwegian scoffed, "_Listen_. Is this some type of sick joke? What the hell was going through your thick skull went you sent _him_ up here?"

The Dane seemed to splutter for a bit, "What? W-who? What're you talking about you wei-" The blond cut him off before he could finish.

"You know very well what I'm talking about. Don't play stupid. For once use what little god damned intelligence God saw fit to give you."

The line went a little quiet before the Dane spoke," So I guess you've met Tino huh?"

"…"

"Yeah well he's a buddy of mine." his voice was somber as he spoke," Look, the guy needed a…vacation alright? So I just rented out the cabin for him. Plus, I thought it'd be nice if you guys met him. He's a sweet kid. He's just like hi-"

Simmering, Aleskander lashed out,"He's _not him_ and he never will be," he punched the box right next to him, "God Dammit! What the hell is wrong with you? You can't just pull shit like this! You can't just use someone like that you pathetic dog!"

The line went silent for a while.

"…I know. But that's not the whole reason why I sent him over there. The poor guy needed a getaway _real_ bad. Things were getting too stressful for him over in Helsinki."

"Oh really now? You think that that's enough to justify sending him here, to that _specific_ cabin? If he needed a vacation that badly why didn't you send him to some tropical island?"

"Fucking A, Aleks, you sure are chatty today," jeered the Dane,"…Tino was a bit...homesick, so sending him there was the perfect opportunity. He grew up in some snowy village up north in Finland. It was similar enough."

"…You're an idiot."

"Yeah, well fuck you too Aleks. Gimme a break, you're not the only who's been having a bad day."

Now this came as a surprise to the Norwegian. Jesper was _always_ in a good mood.

"…Go on."

The Dane sighed before continuing, "Well, I've been dealing with shit all morning, making phone calls, making arrangements with the hospital and all…"

He raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "...hospital?"

Sounding truly exhausted, Jesper replied "Tino has a little brother who's been comatose for years."

The Norwegian had nothing to say.

"Anyway, he passed away this morning. Tino still doesn't know."

* * *

**HA. This chapter is a wee bit longer. By some miracle I managed to dole out this baby. This chapter was a bit cheesy in my opinion, but meh. I don't really care at this point. I'm hella tired. I was a bit reluctant to add the "tino's brother" part. It helps with the plot, but it's just a minor detail really. Thank you guys for all the feedback **** You guys are faaaaaaaaaabulous ;D Unfortunately, I won't be able to update this often, sports are starting up for me on Monday and I still have shitloads of reading to plow through. Fun. **

**Please drop a review if you can, because those really do help me write faster. **

**-Puuba**


	3. Little House

**Song of the chapter is both "Little House" by the Fray, the "Sixth Station" from Spirited Away, and one other song. Whoever guesses the song that each quote is part of in the beginning of the chapter (from now on) will get a prize of some sort. Drawing, oneshot, something hopefully worth your trouble.**

**Discalimer: Hetalia is not and thankfully, will never become mine.

* * *

**

**Chapter 2:**** Little House**

"_Sunny morning, you can hear it, siren's warning. There is weather on both sides…and I know it's coming…"

* * *

_

No way was this going to happen.

Not _again._

Echoes of laughter and muffled footsteps rung in his ears, and the smell of wood burning in the hearth of a fireplace wrapped around his nose, blending with the brisk scent of pine. The cold nipped at his nose and made it runny, and his throat dry. A chill racked his body, and the blonde gave a slight shiver as he rubbed his hands together. The pitter-patter of padded paws trailed after him as he made his way to the pond's edge. Or at least they should have.

He stood by the border of snow and ice. The pond was still taped off, and the vivid yellow ribbon seemed blindingly bright against the white landscape. Looking past the neon-colored barrier, the blue-eyed child could still see the small hole in the pond's frozen surface. The edges had begun to re-freeze and slowly, all evidence of the struggle that had taken place there began to vanish as well. The opening was small now, about the size of a small soccer ball. Nature seemed to be moving on, but he couldn't.

After all, what was there to move on from anyway?

His face contorted into a strained expression, lips trembling as they curved upward in a perverse imitation of a smile. His eyes began to feel warm, and his brow kept twitching.

His shoulders shook as a strangled sob escaped from his throat. His vision blurred, and it seemed as though ever since _it _occurred, his vision was constantly blurry. Shapes were indistinct, and he relied more on his hearing than before. He strained his ears in search of that familiar laugh, but only heard echoes. His parents grew worried, and had taken him to see the doctor. Apparently he needed glasses, but he knew he didn't need them. His vision had always been perfect. A few weeks later, the blurriness disappeared, but he kept the glasses. Everything was hazy, and they made his head hurt a lot. It was nice. Details were fuzzy, and people's faces were indistinct…and that was the best part.

He didn't have to see _his_ face at the procession. That way, he could say it wasn't _him_ they put six feet under. Perhaps the boy in the casket had the same name, but not the same face…or at least that's what he argued.

Another cold breeze battered his body and he blinked several times before his vision began to focus back again. Silently he stared back at the hole, and for the first time, the glasses didn't help. Tears streamed down his cheeks in small rivulets, and his knees collapsed from beneath him. The boy let out a scream, and it rang out within the woods, and he bled his sorrows onto the snow, but no one heard him. The only ones watching are the trees, and they're not very talkative. They never tell secrets. They only whisper their knowledge to the wind, and if one listens closely, they may hear their hushed murmurs.

For a moment, he almost vomits on the snow, but there is nothing to wretch, so he gags and stares at the hole once more before his eyes widen, and suddenly, everything goes black. Before he succumbs, he hears the sound of laughter and muffled footsteps.

For a moment, he fears this is real.

For a moment, he fears things are _clear_.

For a moment…he fears the dried blood splattered around the edges of the hole _isn't_ a part of his imagination.

* * *

The sound of another crack startles him, and reality hits him like a sack of bricks.

He looks down and sees the ice cracking and interweaving like a spider's intricate web. The Swede noticed the shorter blonde standing in the center of the crack, trapped like a bug in the web's center. Quickly, he reaches for the shorter, because at this point, only speed will determine whether the Finn falls in or not. His movements feel slow and languid, and perhaps the adrenaline pumping through his system make him feel this way, but he can't help but wonder if it really is. He lunged for the blonde's arm, but one last crack beats him to the chase.

Horror seeps into the Swede's heart as he watches the ice crumble beneath the young man.

For one second, the blonde opens his eyes, and at first the Swede sees sweet caramel staring back at him, but the image flickers quickly, and he sees that those eyes aren't brown, but a light mauve, and they were warm, and they were understanding. They were both enchanting and terrifying.

Then time reverted back to its normal self, and his fingers grasped at nothing as the Finn plunged beneath the ice into the frigid depths below.

* * *

Tino had the same dream again and again. The woman would sing to him and a pair of arms would rock him to sleep. Except for the bear, everything was pretty much the same.

The singing stopped. He looked up from the pair of arms he was held in and felt something warm run down his face. The smell of copper permeated the air and a sense of dread lined the bottom of his stomach as he slowly raised his gaze upwards towards that face he could never quite see. Florid droplets flowed down the person's neck, and it kept flowing and flowing, and oh God, it just wouldn't _stop_! He tried to yell, but he couldn't move or speak. He was frozen, and the warmth that once encompassed him morphed into a numbing cold. Tino blinked, and suddenly the arms around him disappeared into nothing, and he found himself on the hard floor soaked in scarlet. The walls were speckled with the color and handprints could be made out against the battered doorframes. The distant sound of a woman singing drifted into the copper-laden air, and made Tino's heart nearly skip a beat. The noise was getting closer. It was just around the corner, and all he can do is wait, petrified, as the footsteps got closer. Then the singing stopped, and he looks up to the doorway and his breath catches in his throat. Right there in the doorway was the bear from last night.

It was looking right at him.

With a startled gasp, the Finn blinked his eyes and peered up at a tall blonde man rushing towards him. He found it strange but he only had time to lock gazes with the man for a brief second. The man's eyes were a pale blue-green, yet despite their frosty demeanor, Tino knew them. He was no stranger to them.

The bear was nothing new, after all.

In an instant, all thoughts melted into one white, fuzzy mess as the cold invaded his body. The sensation of thousands of knives digging into his skin blotted out any coherent thoughts, and suddenly he couldn't hear the ringing anymore. Everything sounded far away and was marred by the water. The cold seeped into his body, and chilled his bones, and after a few painful seconds, he felt numb and oddly, _warm_. His eyes opened blearily to glance at his hand.

Was that his hand reaching towards the surface, he couldn't tell? He was so warm. Too warm. The sensation was smothering him, and he didn't like it.

As his conscious began to recede into a watery nothingness, he tilted his head up to see the surface being wiped clear, and suddenly, the bear's eyes were looking at him again through a small, clear patch of ice.

The last thing he was aware of was the feeling of another grasping his outstretched hand.

* * *

Cold droplets of ice water splashed against his face, as he stared at the spot where the sleepwalking Finn had been only moments ago. Suddenly, realization was dawning upon him, and with sharp gasp, Berwald got to his knees and started swiping the surface of the frost-covered ice. After a few seconds of fumbling around, panic began to build up in his system before he caught sight of blonde hair flowing beneath the ice. The blood was pulsing in his ears and he could practically feel each rush of blood pumping through his blood vessels as he reached behind him, hands scrambling for the hatchet he had brought with him. When his hands grasped the hatchet's handle, the Swede wasted no time in swinging around, and hacking at the ice. The adrenaline fueled each swing of the hatchet, and each crack brought him closer to the Finn.

A loud crack disturbed Berwald's focus, and with a jolt, he noticed that he had created a hole in the surface. Without hesitation, he reached his hand into the icy water, and struggled to grasp onto the drowning Blonde. With a grunt, his fingers grabbed onto Tino, and with a strained grumble, he started to haul the Blonde out of the water. Even though his hands had only been submerged for a few seconds, they had already began to start feeling numb, and tingling sensations surged through his arms as he struggled to pull the Finn out of the water. The young Blonde was heavy, and he didn't struggle. Well shit, _that's_ not very good. Not at all.

With one last heave, Berwald hauled the Finn out of the water, and slid his body a safe distance away from the broken ice. He ran a (very) quick check of the boy's vitals, and then proceeded to hoist him on his back. As he got back up, the Swede stumbled over his feet, the weight of the unconscious Blonde throwing off his balance. Determined, Berwald returned to his cabin as fast as he could, the shivering body against his back wouldn't let him focus on anything else at the moment; everything was a terrible blur, and the only thing fueling him right now was absolute.

He could not, and _would_ not let another fall victim to the pond.

The Swede had succeeded in removing the immediate threat to the Finn, but next came the trickiest part. He had to warm him up before hypothermia kicked in. If it got that bad, well, then one could only pray.

Shifting the Blonde on his back, he opened the door and closed it behind him with small kick of his foot. He rushed into the living room where the fire was. Gently, he lay the unconscious Finn down in front of the hearth. The boy's pallor was paper white, and his lips were tinged a deathly shade of blue, and his body convulsed violently. Suddenly, a slight flush stained his cheeks as he realized something.

If he was going to warm this guy up, he had to get him out of those wet clothes (not that there were that many but still), and quick. With a quick shake of his head, he expelled any embarrassing thoughts and ran into the kitchen to grab a pair of scissors. On his way back, he grabbed some towels from the bathroom, and headed back to the fireplace. He turned his gaze back to the Finn, and inhaled deeply. After a second or two, he let go of his breath and descended upon the Blonde, tearing through the heavy, wet clothing. The cloth was resistant, but the Swede was even more resilient. He tore through the soaked long sleeve first, and struggled to cut through the sweatpants. The water made the fabric stick to the Finn's skin, and Berwald tried to cut around it as delicately as could. He tossed aside the articles of clothing as he cut through them until the Blonde was lying in only his boxers. Focusing on his task, he grabbed the towels beside him, and wrapped it around the quivering body in front of him, and patted dry his skin, and even wrapped a towel around his head to preserve it's warmth, and prevent further loss of heat. He placed a towel over the Blonde's hips, and snuck his hand underneath the material, and grabbed hold of the Finn's boxers. With a quick tug, he yanked them off the boy's hips, and pulled them down his goose-bump covered legs.

Shaking slightly, he fell backwards and landed on the floor with a loud thump (and a grunt on his behalf). He managed to save the young man, but there was still the possibility that he may fall to sickness. The thought alone made the Swede want to pull out his hair, and made his chest swell with an overwhelming sense of dread. Slowly, Berwald got up, and with one last glance at the wrapped up Finn, he made his way upstairs into the bedroom, and opened the oak wood dresser (that he had carved) by his bed. He rummaged through its contents until he finally pulled out a pair of black sweat pants, a clean pair of underwear, a white long sleeve, and a blue sweater. He tucked the clothing beneath his hands, and ambled down the stairs.

As he made his way over to the fireplace once again, he thought back to when the Finn had fallen through the ice, only minutes before. The whole thing seemed pretty surreal, and almost slow, in the giant's opinion. The moment right before the young man had fallen in was etched into his mind's eye, and all he could really remember was how the Finn had looked him straight in the eyes like _he knew_. But that's what was bugging him. _What_ did he know? The thought made him snort.

"I'm goin' cr'zy."

After what seemed like forever, the Swede had succeeded in dressing the smaller blonde in the dry clothes he had picked out. The whole process had been rather trying on his nerves, since the towel covering the Finn up had almost fallen off God know how many times. Awkwaaaaaaard. Berwald constantly checked the Blonde's temperature, frowning each time as he realized it wasn't getting any better. He tried to wrap the boy in wool blankets, yet he still quivered from the cold. When the fever had yet to pass, the Swede picked him up, and laid him down on the sofa. He stared down at the Finn's face, and observed how pale his cheeks were. His physiognomy was relaxed, and if it weren't for the fact that Berwald could see his eyes moving back and forth beneath his eyelids, he would have thought him dead. His chest rose and fell in such a subtle manner, that, it barely looked like it was moving at all. He leaned down and brushed the Blonde's bangs out of his face, letting his fingers linger on smooth cheeks, before tracing the outline of his lips. The velvety texture of his skin was addictive, and left a tingling feeling in the Swede's fingertips, that left him with a need for more. Gradually, Berwald let his hands return by his side, when he noticed the Blonde was still shivering, albeit not as much as before. With little hesitation, he climbed onto the sofa, behind the Finn, and pulled him to his chest, and pulled the covers over the both of them. The movement caused the younger man to stir a bit, but he did not wake. Gently, Berwald interwove a calloused hand into the Finn's locks, massaging his head with the tips of his fingers. Little by little, the giant grew drowsy, and soon enough, he dozed off with Tino sound asleep against his chest.

* * *

_When he looked up at the ceiling, Tino noticed it was tinged a dirty red, and a small plop of liquid landed on his face, making him wince as it splattered across his cheek. He glanced back up at the ceiling and tilted his head in slight confusion when he saw what looked like blood. That old coppery scent began to permeate the walls, staining it a rusty red. He twisted his head to the side and saw nothing but an expanse of white. Odd. A peculiar feeling started to settle in his stomach when he realized he couldn't sit upright. Tino was stuck in his position on the floor. _

"_Calm down. It's probably just that whole sleep paralysis mumbo jumbo…yes, that's it." He blew a lock of hair out of his face and looked back down at the ceiling. __**'What a minute…since when was the furniture on the ceiling?' **__Tino was puzzled as to why such a thing was even happening, but all thoughts pertaining to the mystery flew out the window the moment he saw a bloody print on the glass of the coffee table. His eyes widened as he followed what looked like the beginnings of a trail of bloody handprints. Some tiny pools of the fluid dotted the ceiling. Dear God, this was a little too messed up for his liking. The strange feeling he had felt prior began to wriggle and writhe in the pit of his abdomen, and suddenly, he could feel his hands go clammy, and his lips felt cracked and parched. His pulse was so loud he could feel it pounding through his limbs, and his ears began to ring. A loud snap from up above drew his attention back to the macabre scene before him. A little to his right, behind the creaky rocking chair, was a young brunette. _

_The same boy from last night. _

_He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, willing himself to calm down. Panic wasn't going to get him anywhere. _

_He knew the boy from somewhere, but he didn't know where. Every time Tino tried to remember, his vision went fuzzy, and his mind filled with a haze. Details were blurred, and the sounds of distant memories replayed in his head, albeit somewhat muffled. His temple throbbed a little, and that thirsty feeling returned in full force._

_The sensation was akin to that one time he had a slight hangover after that drinking competition with that idiot he called Jesper. Now Tino was no lightweight, not by any means. Quite contrary to popular belief, the mild-mannered Finn was quite a beast when it came to holding his own in a drinking competition. In fact, he never drinks because he knows (from experience) that once he starts, he won't stop. Tino and Jesper could chug down alcohol like it was water. Although he has never admitted it aloud, he's a bit proud of his talent. Jesper on the otherhand…well he never seemed to stop boasting about it. _

_An abrupt creaking noise made Tino pause and look up._

_A blur of movement crossed his field of vision, and when he looked back at the rocking chair, the boy was gone._

_A slight chill went up Tino's spine._

_The rocking chair was swinging back and forth, and blood smeared across the ceiling (or was it the floor?) as the bottom of the chair glided over the surface. The patterns created from it looked eerily like someone had dragged their bloody fingertips across the ceiling, and the scene overall looked as if it had been taken straight out of a horror film. _

_A giggle of laughter rang clear across the room, and Tino struggled to turn his head in the direction of the sound. _

_He tilted his head back and came face to face with a pair of mauve eyes, so much like his own. They seemed to twinkle with laughter and amusement, but the sentiment contained within their depths wasn't warm. Tino felt goose bumps rise up on this skin, and felt the sensation of icy water being dumped on him spread throughout his body. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes, the sight before him made his heart jerk painfully. The boy with eyes like his own stared back at him. He had wisps of brown hair that swept across his forehead, and some strands seemed to stick to the boy's thick lashes. His skin was a ghostly shade of white. The pallor of his skin contrasted with his pink-tipped nose and ears. The boy was staring at him._

_Ahti was smiling._

_Tino's breath hitched, and for a moment, it seemed like he had forgotten how to breathe._

_The boy laced his hand through Tino's hair, and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. Tears welled up in the Finn's eyes, and he could hardly even utter a single noise. _

_Ahti pulled his face back until he rested both of their foreheads together. Tino felt something warm dribble down his cheeks and the boy cupped both of them with his small hands. _

_A tiny noise escaped through Tino's throat, and his chest gave a shudder as he tried to calm himself down. _

"_How…you're here-I-you…" He swallowed the large lump in his throat, "you're awake." _

_The boy giggled, and closed his eyes in delight. The sight made Tino smile, and soon enough, he joined in the other's laughter. A feeling of joy seemed to fill the hollow within Tino's chest, but something felt off. The Finn was shaken from his thoughts as something wet ran down his face. His eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced back up at the boy. Small rivulets of blood ran down his cheeks and dribbled down his mouth, and the droplets fell upon his face. _

"_Ahti! You're b-bleeding!" Terror began to replace the joy within his chest. _

"_No I'm not," He said._

_Tino's gaze was filled with confusion at his odd statement, and he lifted up his hand (when did he regain control of his body?) to wipe away the scarlet fluid. _

_The boy grasped his hand, and steered it towards his own face. When he pulled back, his hand was dripping with blood. He felt his insides go cold as he glanced back at Ahti._

"_What?"_

_The child just smiled that saccharine smile of his, and repeated, "I'm not the one bleeding," A cold, frightening look crossed the boy's features as the smile dropped from his face. "You are."_

_Tino was too stunned to comprehend what was being said, and the ringing began to return at once. The deafening noise came on so suddenly, that Tino's vision began to swim in a terrible swirl of red, whites, and all colors in between. Ahti's laughter was thrown into the mix as the Finn tried to recover from the sudden vertigo. He looked back, and Ahti was gone. The creaking of the rocking chair returned, and he turned his neck so quickly, he suffered from whiplash. The pitter-pat of blood droplets raining down around him flooded his ears, and he thought that if the noise got any louder, his ears might just explode. He cried out as he grasped his head in his hands. _

"_Brother." _

_Tino's eyes flew open, and he glanced up at the ceiling again. No one has called him that since well…since a long time ago. _

_Ahti was gazing at him from above. The sight was puzzling, as the boy was standing on the floor, yet from Tino's perspective, it looked like he was standing on the ceiling. The room glowed a warm orange as fire began to spread across the floor. Ahti looked up at him, and reached out his hand towards Tino. The child tilted his head to the side, and gave a manic grin. The cold feeling in the pit of the Finn's stomach burst into full-fledge terror. The boy's gaze bore into him like a knife. The flames were too hot, and Tino could feel their warmth licking at his face. _

"_Brother, why are you on the ceiling?" _

_The Finn wanted to cry out in sheer agony. Everything was so…so messed up. _

"_Tino, why don't you take my hand?" An angry cry burst from Ahti, and his face contorted into a livid expression, "Why didn't you join me?" _

_Everything was so disorienting, and it felt like someone had pulled out the rug beneath his feet._

_Tino was petrified with fear, and his muscles cramped up. He turned his head to the side, thrashing in pain, and saw the ceiling give away. Parts of the surface gave way, and streams of cold air, and light poured into the smoky room. Snowflakes trickled through the holes, and down towards the floor where Ahti and the fire was. _

"_You should listen to your brother, Tino," The voice of a woman drifted to him from below him, but he couldn't see her. _

_Ahti looked like he was on the verge of tears, and he shook in his fury. _

"_You don't belong up there! Brother!" The boy stomped his foot down, and the flames flared up in response. _

_More cracks spread across the surface that lay beneath him, and he felt the chill of the cold at his back. A pair of arms hooked beneath his arms, and all of a sudden, he was being pulled away from the flames._

_Ahti's face was solemn, and his eyes shined with loneliness, "Tino, mother is calling you." _

_Within seconds, Ahti was out of sight, and the bloody room was gone, replaced with white snow. A pair of pale blue eyes met with his, and a sudden chill washed over him. Tino took three deep, shuddering breaths before the tears started to roll down his face. His keening echoed across the valley, and stirred the pinewoods with its sorrow. The owner of those blue eyes continued to watch over the Finn, and they glazed over in a doleful sheen. The sound of Tino's grief was unsettling, and the noise was comparable to that of a banshee's. The Finn wrapped his hands around the Swede's and squeezed it with all his might. The blue-eyed blonde winced at the sudden pain but forced himself to relax. Slowly, Tino calmed down, and began to fall back into a deep slumber. He twisted his head upwards to face his savior, and almost smiled when he saw his eyes. Berwald stroked Tino's scalp, and didn't utter a word, afraid that the Finn might shatter beneath his touch. _

_Tino gave one soft chuckle before his eyelids started to close. _

"_It's you again," he drawled. _

_A feeling of déjà vu flooded his body, like he had met the man before. Tino almost smiled at the silly thought._

_Honestly, all this déjà vu was starting to piss him off._

_The Swede continued to stare at him, and only gave a slight nod. At first, Berwald never paid any notice to the young brunette staring at him from across the snowfield. His frigid gaze was as sharp as icicles, and filled with contempt. A slight shiver ran down Berwald's spine, and finally, he looked up. Their eyes locked on one another, and for once in very long time, Berwald felt afraid.

* * *

_

The sound of "You're My Better Half" rang throughout the cold hotel room, followed by a noisy groan. A hand shout out from beneath the duvet, and wandered aimlessly across the nightstand before it grasped what it was looking for. A broad hand picked up the offending device, and threw it across the room, where it hit the wall with a sickening crunch, and landed on the floor with a dull _thud._ A long pause filled the room. Suddenly, the hand stilled, "wait a minute…" A pair of cobalt eyes flew open in alarm, and the Dane scrambled out from beneath the covers, in search of the object he had thrown. "Oh Shit! My Baby!" What Jesper had thought to be his alarm clock was actually his phone.

The Dane went down on all fours trying to gather up the pieces of his precious "Baby." The back of the device was scratched in two places, and the little knobs on the back of the cover had broken off, which meant the phone's battery kept falling out of place. Jesper stared at the little Nokia with a slight pout on his face. It was the latest model too.

An hour of grumbling, and several pieces of scotch tape later, Jesper managed to revive his baby. Dammit, that was the third phone he's done that to! The young man ran his hand through his unruly hair and gave a slight huff as he went through his list of recent calls. The ringtone playing that morning could only mean one thing_. 'One glorious thing' _he thought with a smirk.

Aleks called him. _Aleks _called him. Aleks _called _him. Aleks called _him_!

An elated chuckle rumbled deep within the Dane's throat, as he hummed to himself in joy. Sure today had started off a little unlucky (his poor baby!), but nothing beat the fact that Aleksander called him. The fact that he was yelling (and cursing) at him over the phone yesterday didn't even go through his mind. He was just one happy son of a bitch right now. The cheery Dane sauntered down to the front desk of his hotel, and checked out. It didn't take him long to exit the Umeå city limits, and drive along familiar roads. He was going back to the place he had called 'home' long ago. The roads were icy, and the heater of his red SUV was busted, but he didn't mind.

He loved the cold. The sun could go fuck itself for all he cared…well except that he would because then the planets would fall out of orbit, and they'd all die…or some shit that Hinrik had told him a long time ago. '_Nah…he probably just made that all up.'_ As he drove up the winding roads, he pulled out his hand dandy Bluetooth, and made a phone call.

The phone only rang three times before one irate Norwegian picked up.

"It's about time, you insufferable stooge," a voice deadpanned from the other side.

"Well good morning to you too, sunshine. So what's up?"

"…You didn't even _bother_ to listen to my message before you called, did you?"

"…"

"I'll take that as a yes."

A sigh could be heard from somewhere in the background, and Jesper had to focus real hard before he confirmed two voices speaking to one another in hushed tones.

The Dane felt a little put off at the lack of attention, "So…uh Aleks, I'm uhh …on my way up to the town already, so make sure to empty out that guest bedroom of yours before I arrive," His butt was itchy," actually, I could just stay in your bed too you kno-"

A loud crash resounded on the other side of the line.

"…What." The Norwegian didn't sound very pleased. "You are on your way _where?"_

Jesper gave a great sigh, as if recounting some terrible tale, "On my way _there. _Your house, _tu casa_, the whole shebang, you know?"

"Yesterday I didn't think you could get anymore stupid; it seems you've proved me wrong yet again. Your level of stupidity is infinite, and is an insult to mother nature herself. You make Alfred look like Albert Einstein."

The Dane let the comment bounce off him, and gave a deep chuckle of laughter. Oh Aleks, what a sly little thing. Jesper almost frowned when he drove past a certain landmark.

"Listen Aleks, I'm about to enter that part of the valley that's like a a cellular graveyard, so just leave everything ready for me, okay? Thanks, 'kay bye, I love ya!"

He gave a triumphant smirk as he heard the Norwegian splutter indignantly.

"Why you little piece of shi-shhe shhe" The line went dead, as he entered the dead zone.

"Ha! What great timing!" The Dane smiled, and focused his sight on the road. He glanced at the passenger seat of his car, and felt his smile falter a bit. A twinge of anxiety welled up in his chest. Tino hadn't taken the boxes of medication with him. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, and he chewed on his lip absentmindedly. He was supposed to look out for the little guy, and al-_fucking_-ready he'd let him down.

"Dammit."

* * *

The first thing Tino was aware of was the smell of sawdust, and pinewood. With a start, he sat up, only to meet resistance when a pair of arms tightened their hold on his torso. He let out a silent gasp and tensed up. Now there are times when one needs to calm down, take a deep breath, and analyze the situation with poise and composure. But then again, there are times when a good old "What the _fuck?_" suffices. Hey, it gets the message across, right?

Tino grumbled curses left and right as he attempted to catch his cool once again. With one big gulp, he tried to turn his head towards the offender, when he stopped. The Finn was surprised to find himself nose to nose with another blonde. Blinking very rapidly, Tino realized that the giant was actually his neighbor, as in the giganto, axe wielding, beast of a man that lived next door. The sudden revelation, colored his face a nice rosy red, and when he found his gaze wandering along those rigid cheekbones and jaw line, he shook his head. '_Dear God…help me.'_

Tino did a quick double take of his surroundings, and saw that aside from the Swede currently wrapped around him, he was a in a cozy living room, and to his left was a crackling fire. The wind was howling outside, and it battered against the cabin windows in an eerie manner. The interior of the cabin was decorated in a sparse, almost homey manner. On the back of the sofas, there was what looked like homemade quilts, their ends frayed from what he imagined to be years of frequent use. Comfortable warmth filled the room, yet somehow, Tino felt like something was a bit off. The tall Swede behind him shifted a little, pulling Tino out of his little reverie, and reminding him, that he was not alone. The man began to stir even more, and let out a bear of a yawn. Panic startled to settle in the pit of his stomach, and before the Swede could notice that he was awake, Tino decided to feign sleep. It took all of his willpower to not shout out loud, and round on the stranger behind him, and give him a good jab, or two, to the jaw. He forced his chest to rise and fall in the same, slow manner, and constrained his muscles into a relaxed position.

Slowly, the man withdrew himself from Tino, and got off the sofa. He stretched his legs, and gave another silent yawn. Berwald glanced down at the Finn lying where he was just moments ago. The Blonde reached down and covered him back up with the quilt, tucking in the edges into the corners of the sofa, making Tino feel as snug as possible. So far so good, it seemed like his neighbor was buying his act, so why wasn't the Swede walking away? He couldn't open his eyes, since that would just give him away, but he would still be able to hear him right?

The Finn's questions were answered the second he felt a warm, rough hand place itself upon his forehead. The difference in temperature was almost immediate, and he couldn't help but twitch his brow at the contact.

The hand trailed down his cheeks, and its warm touch relieved the chill that Tino felt throughout his body. He hadn't realized how cold he felt until that moment, and despite his best efforts, he let a soft sigh pass through his lips, and almost right after, the trailing hand came to a stop, and seemed to hesitate, before it disappeared completely. For what seemed like a moment, Tino almost felt disappointed, but restrained himself from showing it, because he knew he was being watched.

He didn't know how long he was being watched for, but eventually, he succumbed to the cold, and started to fall back to sleep. He almost smiled when he realized he could hear how loud the silence was.

'_Funny…I can hear again…'

* * *

_

The way the Finn's face twitched beneath his fingers sent a jolt of dread through Berwald, as he realized, he might've been caught touching a _stranger's_ face. His cheeks burned, and the tips of his ears felt hot, and it felt like he just had cotton stuffed into his ears. Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away, and let it drop back to his side. The Swede continued to gaze down at the blonde however, and God knows how long he stood there. Berwald's mind was foggy from sleep, and his mind wandered from one thought to another like a restless nomad. When his eyes finally started to water, he blinked back the tears, and waited for his vision to settle back to normal. Once everything came back into focus, he began to feel a little odd, like he wasn't comfortable in his own skin. Everything in sight was much too clear, and crisp for him to bear. He glanced back at the sleeping blond, and finally turned around, looking for his glasses. After a few seconds of looking around, he found them on the floor, by the foot of the couch. He picked them up, and placed them on his face. After years of wearing glasses, he had slight indents on the bridge of his nose, and on the backs of his ears. He gave another sigh, and turned back to his sleeping neighbor. This time however, the details of his face were a bit more blurred due to the thick lenses of his spectacles, but he could still make out the features of the man's face. A slight frown marred his brow, and caused a shadow to fall upon his cheekbones.

This was too much.

Shaking his head, the Swede pivoted on his heel, and made for the stairs. He needed to take a shower. He made his way up slowly, peering at the wall alongside the creaky steps. Multiple picture frames dotted the wooden walls; some frames contained happy pictures of when he was young. Every once in a while, he would spot a picture of he and the boys together. There were pictures of them ice fishing, building snowmen, and even some pictures of he and Jesper trying to tear the other one's throat out. The memories that lined the wall made a small bit of warmth swell within his chest, and he could feel his lips quirk upwards in a tiny smile. Nostalgia invaded his mind, and instead of traveling up the stairs, he seemed to be going back through time. The feeling was strange, but not entirely unwelcome. The only bad thing about these memories was the fact that they often brought about thoughts of _him. _The blonde shook his head, as if it would help shake the thoughts away.

"I need to see a d'ct'r."

As he lay in the shower, beneath the waterfall of cold water, Berwald continued to stare out into empty space, thinking about nothing and everything at the same time. Everything felt like vertigo, and it felt like a huge weight had just been dumped onto his shoulders. The chill of the water helped soothe his nerves a little, and he barely even noticed the way goose bumps arose on his skin, or the slight tremor in his hands. He had long ago gotten used to the ice water.

It's what he grew up in, and it's what he has always known. Unlike that Ivan fellow from the tavern downtown, he doesn't yearn or seek for warm summer days, full of soft breezes, and stifling hot, stagnant air. Berwald has always relished the frigidity of the North. His profound respect for the mountains, snow, and winter was ingrained deep within his being, and his love for it ran deeper than most. For him, this was his home, and despite his quiet, stoic demeanor, he held a great pride in where he lived.

A deep chuckle erupted from the back of his throat as he recalled the times when he and Jesper would challenge each other to contests in the snow to see who could withstand the elements longest, and who was the "manliest." They would do stupid things like taking naps out in the snow, while Aleksander would mutter how stupid they were, Hinrik copying his movements like the little brother he was. And then _he_ would be standing there, begging them to stop their foolishness, nearly on the verge of tears. Berwald always gave in before he did though; he never had the ability to say no _him_ after all.

Berwald opened his eyes, and didn't even wince when the water running down his face mingled with eyes. His face relaxed, and his expression turned a little blue as wave after wave of childhood memories came over him. With a great sigh, he hauled himself up, and started to wash his hair. He had wasted too much water already.

The creaking sound of the plumbing woke the sleeping Finn. He gave a great yawn that caused tears to prickle in the corners of his eyes. He rubbed them away with the back of his knuckles, and stood up. His body still felt odd, one moment he felt cold, and the next, he would feel hot. The Finn left the blankets folded against the back of the sofa, and stretched his legs. He was in the same place as he was before. The muffled sounds of running water let Tino know that the other was probably taking a shower. Slowly, the young blond crept around the room, gaze focused upon the furniture. The craftsmanship of the furniture was exquisite, and looked as though it came out of one of those home magazines. Tino only ventured through the living room and the kitchen; he didn't dare wander into the closed bedrooms. He felt bad enough as it is, snooping around someone else's home. The Finn was confused as to why he was here. One moment he was at home, with a terrible migraine, and then poof! He's lying in the embrace of his mysterious neighbor. How cliché. The only reason why the Finn didn't wander off back towards his own home was because of his own curiosity. Questions like how the _hell_ did he end up here? What happened? Despite his confusion, Tino felt the strong urge to find out about his neighbor, and it seemed like a good opportunity.

The Finn trotted over to the bottom of the stairs, and slowly crept up its steps. The photo frames along the wall were filled with warm photographs, fool of people laughing, and smiling. Tino stopped dead in his tracks when he came upon one photo in particular. It was the same photograph he had found in his cabin the day after he moved in. The same kids, and everything.

"How odd…" Tino chewed on his lip anxiously as he made his way upstairs.

Finally, the Blonde came to the top of the stairs, where the hall split in three directions: straight ahead was the bathroom (which was occupied at the moment), and the other two seemed to lead into what he assumed to be more bedrooms. He took a left, and stumbled upon a large bedroom full of blankets, chairs, and other furnishings. He knew he shouldn't be snooping, but he couldn't stop now. Something florid caught the young man's attention, and slowly, Tino walked over to said object, where it rested upon the mahogany desk. The Finn picked up the ruddy-colored object, and nearly dropped the picture frame when his eyes ghosted over the picture inside.

There staring right back at him was a young blonde boy, with thick bangs swept across his forehead, and soft, baby fat filled cheeks. The boy wore a white beret, (much too like his own he thought eerily) which was much too large for his head, and was decked out in a light blue snow jacket. The boy was smiling at the camera, and his brown eyes stared right back at Tino. Silently, the Finn fumbled to grasp onto the white cross around his neck. He was so shocked, that he didn't even hear the water turn off, nor did he hear the creaking of the door. Tino clutched one hand over the cross that _Jesper_ had given him, and stared back at the photograph. The boy had one hand over his heart, and the other, well the other was wrapped around the very same cross Tino now held.

The sound of loud footsteps pulled Tino from his little revelation, and he turned around in time to see one very confused Swede, with one hand wrapped around the doorknob, and the other, clutched at the towel around his waist. Pale violet eyes met with icy blue ones, and for a moment, it was if the two forgot how to breathe.

Suddenly, the air in the room became thick with tension, and Tino could feel the blood begin to rush to his face. The tall, blonde, Swede was clad in nothing but a towel, with water dripping down his face. His eyes followed one particular bead of water trickle down the giant's chest, and '_Oh Dear Lord…' _

Was that a six-pack he just saw? All Tino could do was stare right back at the dumbfounded blonde.

Why hellooooooo awkard.

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"_Something is scratching its way out. Something you want to forget about. No one expects you to get up. All on your own with no one around…"_

_-"Little House"-The Fray

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_

**Okay I know I haven't updated in about two months (I'm a terrible person OTL), but I really meant it when I said I would have like no time between sports, and school. This chapter is slightly longer than the last, I'm so sorry! I'm not really satisfied with this chapter, and I bet you guys want to shoot me for giving you this crap after waiting for so long…BUT, luckily, sports ends in about two weeks, so I'll have at least four hours of extra free time everyday :D.**

**Also, as I was assigning certain roles to characters in the series, I thought ****Prussia would make the most fabulous ice cream man. What do you think? Any suggestions for his shop's name?**

**Review if you can~! Let me know what you think, and I didn't really thoroughly proofread this, so mistakes are bound to be plentiful. PLEASE PLEASE POINT OUT ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES, OR TYPOS TO ME. I know I hate it when I read something with lots of obvious mistakes, so help me out here.**

**Thank you,**

**-Puuba**


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